Focus
by Cypriss
Summary: Wufei, Heero, a tropical jungle, butterflies. A giddy first love / love against all odds type thing.


  
title: focus  
series: gundam wing  
pairing: wufei & heero  
content: shonen-ai  
status: complete, finished 030400  
disclaimers: characters copyright of people that are not me  
archive: posted on ysml 030400   
  
  
  
There's something about the intense humidity of the tropic forest that always prickles pleasantly at Wufei's flesh, clutches the life in his chest and gives him a surge of adrenaline. His hands, he must do something with his hands. He flicks distractedly at persistent dragonflies eager to drink the gathering salt of sweat upon his bare cream skin. Their feet tickle him, a sensation so light yet, or so, his mind is most keenly aware of it. It is too much, and he sets down the crate before deftly swinging himself on top.   
  
His dark eyes sweep leisurely over his surroundings. His view is not a never-ending landscape, but crowding him in. Trees growing one on top of the other, with vines snaking up and down, ivory white orchids stretching out of their every cranny, mushrooms running like staircases over the trunks, and ferns splaying forth from between bulging roots. When he breathes, the moist air he draws in has their essence and sticks like syrup in his throat.   
  
So often lately, his body has filled with excess energy, and his mind has been unhinged, leaving him anxious and unsure. Sometimes, he will be dreamy and slow, and others, too centered upon a single matter. And yet he cannot berate himself for it. He is still as effective, still deadly. All that has been lost is direction. On occasion, as now, a part of him wonders, was it only abandoned for one far superior.   
  
His sure feet hit the ground once again, to sink slightly into the moist and warm earth, while lithe arms tense, fingers gripping the splintered wood of the box. For some reason, he does not ask *why*, and he is so conscious of that fact that he finds himself wondering if Heero does. Why had it happened, was it a curse, or... were they so deserving? All he knows is that he wants to get back to the small clearing where they had landed the cargo plane. It was so far away from the crash site, but it was the only safe place. Wufei does not question the merits of it, only regrets the long trek that takes him far and for so long away from what rebalances his mind.   
  
Of course he would not acknowledge his return by words or the slightest utterance. Wufei thinks abruptly of how much he'd like to hear that rough, textured voice sculpt to give his name a new meaning, but for now the harsh blue eyes turning crystalline at his mere presence is enough. The scowl is not transformed into innocence or pleasure, but for a moment the tension is washed way. The eyes are not cured of their coldness, but are flooded with something that might be uncertainty or apprehension.   
  
There is nothing like fear to make Heero Yuy human.   
  
"Were you successful?"   
  
Wufei and Heero both joined in a mutual fear that, like an aura, surrounds something far greater. Their fear is present in every second spent together, in every glance exchanged, in every word spoken, in every touch shared. And in a way Wufei loves that fear, for it is not cowardice and it is shared.   
  
"All men dead. Six crates of guns and ammunition with minimal damage."   
  
They are both scared as hell to be in love with each other.   
  
Heero stands, his skin glistening in the light filling the clearing. He steps forward, his hand reaching out to trail over the paneling of the crate, as if he is ready to inspect its contents. They stare at each other, unspeaking and unsure.   
  
How did it happen? Two boys brought up with war and hurt and hatred, to be killing-machines in a sick, confused world do not look into each other's eyes one day and decide to go to the high school prom together. Nor do they suddenly decide to toss aside the confines of mere companionship to pledge their undying love for each other. When it all gets too mad and tangled up and they are left desperate and unconsciously ravenous for *something* that never seems to be quenched by anything in their chaotic lives; when a bloody and sweaty night turns to dawn, dry and sticky; when a mutual alienation and instability causes one to fall into the arms of another after a battle leaving nothing but the distinct feeling of being lost; maybe that's when it happens.   
  
And when they find each other's guidance, it is hard to say if now they are even more lost. Wufei is not sure how they will be able to do this, to manage a thing of such huge proportion. Could Heero actually allow himself to be loved, a chance at cleansing and even happiness?   
  
He suddenly realizes what it is in Heero's eyes that fill him will such a lust for living as his... his what? He is uncertain of what Heero actually is to him now, now that things have turned upside down or rightside up. ...As Heero traces his forefinger slowly along the curve of his jawline, his own eyes drink in the wonderment resting in Heero's own.   
  
Maybe.   
  
They might be scared, but all Wufei wants not is to wrap himself in Heero, be surrounded by him and be drunk with him. They've got all the time in world, and now it is not enough. He is deserving and Heero is most deserving of all. He wants to weep with the rightness of it, but he can't because he feels too sated, too satisfied, but at the same time he can't get enough. He wants more of this boy who is grabbing at his face, his arms, his torso. This boy who has his legs wrapped around him, arms squeezing him until he can't breathe but now they're moving up and down his back. And yes, yes, maybe they can make this work. And they will make it work, because if they give up on it, they'll give up on everything, because this is life. And it's nature's kiss as butterflies of every kind alight upon the two to lap up their sweat, because the day is long and hot and wet and they are too tired and at peace as they rest in the sanctuary of each other's arms.   



End file.
